


This Is Gospel

by queenlara



Series: College Verse (the "of All Time" verse) [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Natasha finally pushes them, shameless disney comparisons, the UST becomes the RST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenlara/pseuds/queenlara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The greatest disney rendition of All Time. Or, Natasha finally helps Bucky realize his feelings for Steve, by constantly singing "I Won't Say (I'm In Love)." Surprisingly, everything works out all right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Gospel

**Author's Note:**

> I claim no ownership of the characters or the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Song title from Panic! At The Disco, and references to Disney's Hercules.
> 
> Thanks to Tina for reviewing this finally, and dealing with my spontaneous texts from my desk job saying "I feel like Bucky is Meg from Hercules singing "I Won't Say (I'm In Love)" so that makes Steve Hercules"

He, James Buchanan Barnes, did _not_ have a crush. _Regardless of what Natasha says, thank you very much._

Who could blame him for following around Steven Grant Rogers? After reconnecting with his childhood best friend, who could blame him for following around this veritable ray of sunshine, especially after he and Natasha finally escaped the death grip of the gang? (And they’d paid the price—an arm, a hole through a torso; the torment of having to look over their shoulders for the rest of their life)

He couldn’t have a crush on Steve. Steve deserved someone who was kind, and happy, and probably wouldn’t mind him hanging out with those “weeaboo-ass nerds” (as Natasha kindly dubbed them).

“James,” Natasha says kindly to him, “you’re being a deliberately obtuse ass right now. Can’t you see Rogers is over the moon for you?”

“He’s not,” he sputters, feeling his face flush. Natasha, fresh from mixed martial arts practice, just drops her bag unceremoniously to the floor and raises an eyebrow at him while chugging from her water bottle.

“I’ve been patient, Barnes, but I’m going to draw the line. That boy is head over heels and you are just going to keep pretending that you don’t feel something for him?” She slips easily into Russian, and Bucky frowns at her.

“Natalia, please. Even if on the off chance he _did_ ,” Bucky surreptitiously ignores her not-so-subtle coughing, “Steve...deserves someone better than an ex-gang member with a metal arm.”

Natasha only has to take one glance at his face to see that it’s shut down completely, and she shrugs. However, she does begin to quietly sing, “ _Who do you think you’re kiddin’, he’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden—”_

“Natasha, are you _singing that one stupid disney song?”_

The redhead pauses from her singing for a moment, looking offended. “James, _Hercules_ is a great movie and if you can’t see that you’re obviously Meg pining away for Hercu-Steve, then you’re more obtuse than I originally thought.”

 _“Hercu-Steve?_ ” He manages to choke out, torn between laughter and the desire to strangle his foster sister.

However, Natasha only shrugs and grins, continuing on with her impromptu disney serenade: “ _Honey we can see right through you, girl, you can’t conceal it; we know how you’re feeling and who you’re thinking of,_ ” She dances out of reach when he makes a half-hearted attempt to elbow her, and he just groans. Once Natasha gets an idea in her head, she’s like a dog with a bone. _Honestly, you’d think she has nothing better to do,_ Bucky thinks, slightly bewildered.

**********

“Hey, Buck!” Steve says cheerfully when he meets James in front of the infamous Eagle statue, only stopping when he gets a good look at Bucky’s face. “Uh, Bucky, did you get any sleep last night?”

He _hadn’t_ , thanks to Natasha. Everytime he fell asleep all he could dream about was Hercu-Steve and Natasha and Sam as the muses, chasing him while singing that accursed song. Now, it’s stuck on repeat in his head, no matter how many times he listens to other songs.

“Yeah, just had to work at this stupid solidworks project,” he bluffs, yawning. “Anyways, ready for lunch? I have to use up some of these stupid meal swipes. I just found out they don’t roll over each semester,” Bucky frowns.

“Buck, they told us that like three times at orientation. Need to get your hearing checked?”

“Punk. I swear Natasha is rubbing off on you.”

Steve bumps him with his shoulder, and they set off for the shitty dining hall. They don’t make it fifty yards without passing Brock Rumlow, and Bucky tenses up, subtly trying to block Steve from him. Uncharacteristically, Rumlow glances at Bucky, pales slightly, and Bucky can swear there’s the ghost of a bruise on his neck, but the latter hurries past him, hands tightening on the straps of his backpack.

Natasha had come back skipping one day last week while the three of them had been playing mario kart on Sam’s wii. When she had bent over to drop her backpack on the floor, he’d caught the flash of her thigh holster, and she pulled off her combat gloves that she hadn’t worn for over a year, all while whistling the obnoxiously catchy Moves Like Jagger intro.

“Natasha, why on earth are you wearing your thigh holster? Fury doesn’t want us carrying weapons on campus,” he had asked in Russian, while Sam looks over curiously.

“I just took care of a problem. No permanent damage to me or anyone else, scouts honor,” she quipped back in kind.

“You know, it’s typically considered rude to speak in front of people in a different language,” Sam says dryly while casually blue-shelling Bucky, who had then cursed like a sailor and the whole incident had been forgotten. _Perhaps she had something to do with Rumlow’s new-found shyness_.

“Bucky, you seem like you’re lost in thought,” Steve interrupts his reverie, and he snaps out of it with a start.

“Sorry, just guess I got less sleep than I thought,” Bucky chuckles half-heartedly. While dwelling on the topic of Natasha, he had been reminded of the _unfortunate_ remarks she’d been making the night before. _In love, my ass_ , he thinks, and then makes a Fatal Mistake: He glances at Steve.

Steve, who is looking at him with so much concern in his eyes that he’d swear Peggy has popped up behind him, because Steve honest-to-god only looked at her like that, with eyes full of _care_ and _concern_ and _love_ —

“Buck, you need to sleep more. I know they joke about all-nighters in college, but it’s really not good for your health,” the blonde says earnestly. “Make sure you eat healthy at the dining hall and get some sleep tonight, okay?”

“Maybe you should be called a mother hen, Rogers. Natasha would say you’re almost as bad as me,” Bucky says slyly, and Steve only rolls his eyes in response.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ve got nothing on our _babushka_ here,” Steve laughs, and they push their way into the dining hall, pausing to swipe their meal cards, and the woman working the register smiles beatifically at Steve.

“You haven’t been here in a while, Steven,” she says, and Steve ducks his head, abashed.

“Sorry Mrs. Linda. How’s your husband doing? Is his arthritis any better?” Steve asks, and Bucky suppresses a groan. Steve knows _everyone_ , and always asks about their lives and their family and will literally talk to them until the cows come home. As a result, they cannot go anywhere without seeing someone Steve knows, and consequently, late to everything. Bucky can already hear the grumble of the students in line behind them, impatiently waiting to swipe in.

“It’s much better, thank you for asking, Steven!” Her face grows sly, “and is this that _friend_ you’re always talking about? He’s very handsome!” Mrs. Linda even has the audacity to wink at him, and Steve blushes firetruck red.

“Haveagreatday _wehavetogonowbye!_ ” Steve squeaks out, dragging Bucky into the buffet part of the dining hall by his elbow.

Bucky elects not to say anything as he and Steve load up their plates with questionable dining hall food, instead carefully watching Steve. His jerky movements slowly even out, and his blush begins to die down by the time they push their way into dining area. They should have known better than to go during the lunchtime rush, but they manage to locate a small, two person table in the corner.

“I swear, these seats are made for _midgets,_ ” Bucky grumbles, slinging his backpack on the back of his chair.

“You say that every time, Buck,” Steve sighs.

“Well, it’s true,” he grumbles, and the conversation dies down as they begin to eat. The food sucks, as it always does, but it’s food. It’s a lot better than what he and Natasha ate with Pierce or the gang, so he’s grateful, even if they had a tendency to fry pieces of mystery meat and call it fried chicken.

“So, I was talking to Natasha—” Steve begins, abruptly cutting off when Bucky chokes a little on his food. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky croaks, chugging his water, and tries to beat down the flush he can feel creeping up with sheer willpower.

Steve gives Bucky a strange look, but continues anyways. “Well, she said we should have a disney movie night soon, because finals are coming up and we won’t have any time for fun then. She and Sam are voting for _Hercules_ —Bucky, are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

Choking for a second time, Bucky waves off the concern of the other boy, taking another long gulp of his water.

“I voted for _Beauty and the Beast_. I think it’s more romantic—Bucky, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, punk, I’m fine. Why do we have to watch Disney, though?” he complains, and Steve grins.

“You complain, but _Nat_ told me that your favorite movie was _the Little Mermaid_ when you were little, and that you knew all the words to "A Part Of Your World" and sang it all the time,” and Bucky has to resist the urge to bang his head against the wall. _Violently._

**********

When he and Steve return to the dorm room later, he has a bone to pick with Natasha and he’s going to pick it _now_.

She and Sam are relaxing on his bed—Sam typing away on his computer, and Natasha is scribbling away on her notebook with her heavy physics book tucked beside her. It’s a tight squeeze on the twin beds their given, but they make it work, because the alternatives were the floor or Steve’s bed, neither of which were inhabitable due to the heaping piles of laundry scattered about.

When Natasha makes eye contact with Bucky, her eyes light up and she grins, which only fuels his anger.

“Natalia,” he scowls in Russian, “what tales have you been telling him?”

“Only a few,” Natasha responds, and then casually switches to English. “Are you ready for our movie night? I was finishing my physics early so we could watch. _Hercules_ won, by a stunning two to one.”

“How about _no._ ”

“Well, the alternative is Beauty and the Beast, if you vote for Steve’s movie. And then we’ll have to have a tie-breaker, which is annoying, so it’s easier to just vote for _Hercules,_ ” she says with an angelic smile.

Burying his face in his hands, Bucky suppresses a groan.

They end up watching _Hercules,_ much to Natasha’s delight, he ends up hiding in the bathroom during the “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love)” scene, but Natasha takes great delight in humming the chorus whenever he enters a room.

**********

Dropping by Bucky’s dorm after practice, Natasha is surprised to see Bucky lying on his bed, face buried in his pillow.

“James, I hope you’re not dead,” she calls, and he twitches, burying his face deeper into the pillow.

With a sigh, she drops her bag, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He turns his head to peek at her, and Natasha waits patiently. Well, not entirely patient, but she’s familiar enough with James’ moods that pushing him to open up when he’s like this will get her no where.

When he finally speaks up, she’s thrown off kilter by the question he asks first.

“What’s going on between you and Wilson?”

Blinking, Natasha knows that if she evades this question then he’ll just bug her later, and sighs, “I’m not sure. But...it’s _something,_ ” she hedges. “What’s going on between you and Steve?”

Rolling over on his back, he folds his hands under his head. “Why do you want us to get together so badly?”

“I just want you to talk about it. Be open. Steve likes you—and _no_ , I’m not saying that because he told me—and he’s obvious about it. That kid has never pretended he was anything but bisexual, and you know it. For christ’s sake, he’s the vice president of the LGBT support group on campus.”

James huffs slightly at that. “He may be, but it’s not like our upbringing was exactly welcome to _alternative lifestyles_.”

“No need to tell me that. Remember how much I had to sneak around with Pepper? Not that it did any good…” Natasha tenses slightly, and James moves one of his arms, putting his hand on her knee.

“I know why you broke up with her, don’t pretend like you forgot. You did it to protect her,” and Natasha tries to block out the painful memories of their foster father’s threats, and the beating he gave her.

“Yeah, well, Pierce thinks we’re dead, we’ve escaped a gang, and we’re living safely at college. You can’t honestly cite Pierce’s homophobia as your reason to ignore your feelings for Steve, right?” Natasha shifts, and places a hand on top of his. “I just want you to be happy. _You deserve to be happy_ ,” she stresses.

“I just can’t help feeling like we’re living on borrowed time,” James confesses. “I got the same feeling when I was living with Peggy and Steve, like it couldn’t last, and _I was right_. I can’t help feeling like something is going to go wrong, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. We live in the same city as the gang, and even if Fury did a good job of burying everything, it’s not infallible. All it’s gonna take is someone posting a picture on social media, or a vine, or anything, and they’ll find us and drag us back in.” his voice cracks on the last part, and Natasha grips his hand tightly. “And Steve deserves something better than that.”

“ _James_. I promise, I won’t let that happen, I swear to god. We worked so hard to get out, and we will. You can’t just...not act because you’re afraid something is going to happen, because it won’t. _I won’t let it._ ” Natasha vows. “Now, _don’t_ be mad, but I have a pretty good grip on gang activity. I’ve been working a little with Coulson—don’t give me that look—so I can keep a finger on the pulse. I’ve been taking precautions.”

The way she phrases that makes James sit up, brows furrowed. “You’ve been...helping Coulson? _And you didn’t think to tell me?_ ”

“Nothing huge, James. Just hanging out in the same bars they do, listening to the chatter. Your metal arm stands out too much. Please, please don’t get mad. I had to do something to keep getting the tuition paid, and Coulson is almost as much of a mother hen as you, he wouldn’t let anything happen,” Natasha explains, and instead of exploding like she thought, James just slumps against the headboard.

“You stupid woman,” he says wonderingly. “I wondered why Coulson only asked me for the occasional advice. Now I’m not saying I’m happy about this, but at least you’re not alone. He’s a good man, and Hill is the best at what she does.” James smirks, and then his expression sours again. “Is this why you have a free pass on all the crazy shit you do with Steve? Because Coulson owes you?”

“ _Well…._ ”

**********

Steve snuck another look at Bucky, probably his fifteenth in all of the ten minutes they’d been at the on-campus movie theatre. Natasha had seen the advertisement for the Breakfast Club playing there, and insisted they all go as a group. Last minute, Natasha had pleaded ‘sick’ and Sam suddenly remembered a paper he had due the next day that he still hadn’t started.

While it all seemed suspiciously convenient, Steve had chosen not to comment. Contrary to popular (more like Bucky’s) opinion, he could keep his mouth shut. When Natasha texted him a winky face while Bucky was buying popcorn, Steve’s suspicions were confirmed.

The movie had barely started, and Bucky’s hands were clenching the armrests on either side of him. Steve sighs quietly. He was sure Natasha had said something, made Bucky uncomfortable, or something had gone wrong.

Steve knew that Bucky didn’t mind his orientation, not really—after all, Steve wears his “Bi and Fly” shirt at least once a week (it had been a gift from Sharon), and Natasha had once mentioned that she used to date Pepper Potts in high school. While now that was a weird revelation, mostly because Natasha and Bucky typically never talked about high school, Bucky apparently knew all about it.

 _No, it isn’t a problem with his orientation,_ Steve thinks miserably, _it’s a problem with me. Bucky doesn’t like me, and doesn’t know how to let me down easy._

“Hey, punk, why do you look like someone just killed your cat?” Bucky asks, breaking Steve’s depressing train of thought.

 _Well, if Buck won’t let me down easy, I’ll do it for him. It’s the least I can do_ , Steve thinks before taking a deep breath.

“Did, uh, Natasha say anything to you?” Steve slowly asks, wincing when his voice cracks on the last syllable.

Weirdly, Bucky’s face turns a brilliant shade of red. “W-what, did she say anything to you?” he stutters out.

“Um, not really, but that’s beside the point. The point is, I’m sorry. If I’ve been, uh, making you uncomfortable?” Steve mutters out, the but his voice pitching on the last word, as if it were a question.

“What on earth are you talking about, Steve?” Bucky responds, twisting in his seat to pin Steve with a look.

“I mean...isn’t that why you’re acting weird? You’re freaked out because, uh, I like you? In a non-platonic way? I mean, I haven’t been exactly subtle...Natasha’s been wiggling her eyebrows at me like every time I see her,” Steve explains, watching Bucky’s eyebrows slowly climb up to his hairline.

“She has been? Wait, that’s not the point. Steve, I, uh...you deserve someone better than me. Me and Nat, we’ve done a lot of shit, so it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s that I, uh, ya know...fuck. I’m makin’ a mess of this.” Bucky heaves a sigh, and Steve’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

“Steve?”

Instead of answering, Steve leans forward to kiss him, a quick, closed mouth peck on the lips. Bucky’s eyes are wide, and Steve inches back.

“Bucky?” He ventures, but before he can continue, Bucky is leaning forward, enthusiastically kissing him back. Steve pulls out his hair tie and twines his fingers into his hair (Sam calls it “hobo hair” and threatens to cut it in his sleep, but Steve loved it when Bucky pulled it up in pony tails and buns).

Steve probes the seam of his lips first, asking a silent question, and Bucky answers when his mouth slants over his, granting him access.

They only separate when the need to breath wins out, and Steve sucks in puffs of air, desperately hoping to not have an asthma attack, as he’s pretty sure it might ruin the moment.

“That was...something,” Steve remarks, and Bucky smirks.

“Punk.”

“So, when you asked me if Natasha told me anything, what were you referring to?” Steve asks curiously, and Bucky flushes slightly.

“Aw, hell. She, uh, compared us to _Hercules_ , said I was Meg and you were, uh, Hercu-steve. She would not stop singing “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love)” whenever I walked in the room. It’s awful.”

_ “Hercu-steve?” _


End file.
